


A Mercy in Thursdays

by SecretKrissey (IceCreAMS)



Category: Original Work
Genre: 69 (Sex Position), Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Communication, Dirty Talk, F/F, Multiple Orgasms, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-08
Updated: 2021-02-08
Packaged: 2021-03-13 07:28:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29274708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IceCreAMS/pseuds/SecretKrissey
Summary: It's been a long, long day at university and both Ana and Yuki have earned their right to unwind...among other things.
Relationships: Original Female Character/Original Female Character
Kudos: 10





	A Mercy in Thursdays

There is a mercy in Thursdays that Yuki has never known before she was in college—and, by extension, before her life with Ana. It is the mercy that on Fridays, she rarely has classes. This means that even after the most _horrible_ and _difficult_ of Thursdays, Yuki can come home to Ana and throw her arms around her shoulders and over the back of their secondhand couch—as soon as she has returned to their cheap garden apartment up the street from their university—drop her head onto Ana’s shoulder, and know _I have nowhere to be for the rest of today and nowhere to be for the rest of tomorrow, and isn’t that great._ She can sigh, and she can melt, and with it, she can release all of her pent-up stress and frustration. She can just allow herself to _be_.

Ana chuckles at her, one of her cheeks bulging around a handful of her favorite potato chips. She raises a not-greasy hand to tap Yuki’s arm and cranes her neck to get a better view of Yuki’s face. “Wow. It was that bad of a day, huh?”

Yuki sighs and leans more of her weight into the back of the couch, slouching over. Her legs noodle onto the floor. “No. It was just…long.” 

“Ah.”

“The kind of day that makes me glad to be home once it’s done, you know?”

Yuki leans back as Ana swallows and turns around on the couch. She raises herself to her feet again and settles both hands on Ana’s shoulders. Ana folds an arm underneath her chin and rasps, “Yeah. I think I do.” Her smile widens. Suddenly, she lifts her head. “Hey! Speaking of long days, _yours truly_ finally finished that crummy literature essay she went to the library at 7:00 AM for and turned it in!” 

“Did you? That’s great!”

“Yep! Which means, _goodbye_ Mr. Hawthorne and _hello,_ my babe and the weekend!” Ana thrusts both of her hands in the air before grinning wide and catlike, crossing both of her forearms over the back of the couch. Behind her, her legs kick up and down and up and down. Her feet bounce over the edge of the cushions. “For what it’s worth, though, I’m glad to have you home, too, Yuki.”

A pleasant flush rises up Yuki’s cheeks. 

“Oh. You are…?” She murmurs and her head. Her fingertips trace idle patterns along the faded blue threadwork of the couch.

“Yeah.” Ana rolls up her bag of chips and clamps down a clip over the fold. 

Yuki doesn’t say anything.

When the silence suspiciously grows, Ana stops. She turns around and tilts her head. Whatever she was going to initially say—whatever question it was that was going to hop off her lips first as soon as she opened them—suddenly changes trajectory as soon as she sees Yuki’s face. A spark lights in her eyes. There must be something in her girlfriend’s subdued expression, or perhaps it’s a realization that dawns upon Ana because suddenly, she is grinning broadly with all her teeth. “Hey.”

Yuki’s head jerks up. Her brown hair dances against her back. “H-hey?”

_“Hey.”_

Yuki blinks.

In the space between that blink and the next, Ana laughs. She rises up off the couch and reaches over to grab one of Yuki’s hands. “You know what we _should_ do tonight,” she says and her voice dips teasingly low. Sultry-like.

Yuki’s face is already heating up as Ana begins to lead her around their faded blue sofa. “O-oh? What should we do?”

“It’s Thursday night. Neither of us has classes tomorrow, so we _could_ just…y’know.” Ana winks and pulls Yuki forward once she’s fully around the couch. Yuki stumbles into her until their breasts press up against one another. “We could enjoy ourselves. Unwind a bit.”

Yuki is very, very red now—all down her neck. “That…that sounds nice.”

“Yeah?” Ana chuckles. The smile splitting her face is Yuki’s favorite: devious and conniving, like she’s got candy between her teeth to taunt her with.

Yuki nods. She nods again and again and as Ana laughs and spins around to pull her towards their shared bedroom. Then, even while Ana’s not looking, she hides her face behind her hand. She tries very much not to be _too_ pleased that Ana had successfully picked up on every wistful thought she had in her head just moments prior without having to say a word at all.

_Wow. I love her so much—_

They stop beside the bed. They pause. Ana spins around and takes hold of both of Yuki’s forearms. Their eyes meet. 

Somehow, wonderfully, the world around them melts away. 

Suddenly, anything else that there could be beyond these four walls that make up the bedroom of their apartment, and everything else that _isn’t_ Ana or isn’t related to Ana or isn’t caused by Ana is far less important. Inferior. Yuki slips her phone from her pocket and sets it on the bedside table. Ana pulls her long hair back and twists it over her shoulder, handsomely exposing her neck, and Yuki could melt sometimes because it hits her in tiny motions like this how gorgeous her girlfriend is. She’s _so_ beautiful, and Yuki is _so_ lucky.

Yuki frames Ana’s face in her hands before she kisses her. She holds it for one second, then two. Then, she kisses her again.

And again.

At some point, Ana’s fingers must curl into the nape of her neck because Yuki can feel a tremor tremble down her spine. Ana takes control of the kiss easily enough. Yuki trusts her enough that the minute she begins pushing her back, guiding her, she lets it happen. She’s completely unsurprised when the back of her legs hit the mattress.

Ana pushes her back even further, and at the unspoken suggestion, Yuki falls to the bed easily. She giggles as she bounces, hands curling at the level of her ears and over her splayed hair.

But she doesn’t get the chance to sit up before Ana parts her knees on either side of her, straddling her thighs. It’s an enticing image: her skirt spreading wide and taut over her thighs as she takes power and control of the moment, fisting her hands around its reins. And Yuki lets her have control, gladly—if only because she knows how very well she’ll be taken care of with it.

“I don’t think I’ll never get tired of this view,” Ana murmurs. She leans down and steals another kiss. 

The kiss itself is warm, sugary. Honeyed. It sweetens the more Ana tilts her head into it, and the more breathless and happy sounds Yuki hums into her lips. Ana’s hands are two guiding stars, leaving sparks along Yuki’s skin wherever they travel—when they lift her shirt and sweep underneath, across her skin—when they grasp at her breasts and squeeze—and when they slide down and over her underwear.

Of course, it’s always the ass-touching that escalates things.

Yuki gasps the instant she can feel Ana’s hands take hold of her ass. Her whole body jolts. For a moment, her face closes off, tightening around her eyes as her jaw falls slack and open. 

“Is this okay?” Ana whispers up her neck.

Yuki nods. She keeps nodding, forgetting when and why, exactly, her fingers had gotten curled in Ana’s long hair. “Y-yes. Yes. More than.”

Ana grins.

When she flips them over, Yuki is halfway prepared for it. Some part of her had known Ana would; some part of her had hoped she would. Her blouse is gone, now, tossed aside to the floor somewhere in the rush of movement. Ana’s hands eagerly take hold of Yuki’s breasts, squeezing over her bra, and Yuki’s head tosses back. She heaves for breath. Her heel slides up the mattress with a flex of her leg. 

“We should—” she gasps. “We should talk before we—before we get too carried away— _ah!”_

Her world nearly whites out, nerves buzzing into silence, when Ana places a kiss on the underside of her jaw. Ana’s thumbs press teasingly over the peak of her breasts. 

Ana leans up and smiles. Beneath her, Yuki sags to the sheets. Her side brushes against one of Ana’s thumbs.

“Yeah. I know you’re right.” Ana leans back further, rising onto her haunches. Yuki’s eyes trail down to the protruding bulge at her front, tenting up her skirt. “So how are you feeling, then? Any areas I should be mindful of? Is it a green light all the way tonight? Yellow?”

Ah.

Yuki twists her fingers into the sheets near her head. She bites her lip. “Um…well…it’s mostly green,” she says, “mostly, I think.”

“Mostly?”

“Maybe this time…could you keep away from touching my, um…my penis?” 

Talking through these things is still so new; something Yuki is still getting used to. Her face is hot and her cheeks itch and she knows, she knows, she knows that Ana has never and will never react oddly or unkindly to the whims of her dysphoria. She is never afraid of what Ana will say or do. Ana herself understands in so many ways the twists and turns of her own self-view.

No, rather what makes her flush is the naissance of being accommodated, she thinks. 

The newness of being known.

Ana nods. The tension around her eyes lessens; the line of her shoulders becomes a gentle slope. “Yeah. Of course, Yuki. Whatever you want.”

Yuki smiles. 

She releases the bedsheets and lets a hand trail up Ana’s arm. It’s a gentle, soothing motion, a _thank you,_ and _I love you,_ in all the ways that don’t need to be said. “And you, Ana? How are you feeling tonight?”

Ana’s grin turns fiendish. When Yuki’s hand reaches her shoulder, she leans down again to kiss her with a little more teeth than before. “I’m _very_ good.” 

“Oh?”

“Yeah. Super good. Kind of want you to touch me everywhere.”

Yuki’s face flushes again. It starts high on her cheeks and spills down her throat and when she looks up at Ana after their next kiss, she thinks that maybe—just maybe—that was an invitation for more. _“Just_ touch?”

Ana raises an eyebrow. “What, is that not enough for you?”

Yuki’s fingers leave an odd, off-rhythm staccato on Ana’s skin. Over and over again, they press and then lift off and she watches the way small pools of white form around the impressions left behind before they disappear. “Oh no, it’s like you said. It’s whatever you want. I’m just…I just think it might be nice if I…I think I’d kind of like to, maybe…um…if I could…”

She lifts her hand away and, tentatively, points to her own mouth.

The dark pupils of Ana’s eyes blow wide. 

Yuki has a second—a split second to see what kind of hunger and drive her suggestion has awakened in Ana—before Ana’s lips press over her own and she is moaning. One of them is moaning, or maybe it’s the both of them. Yuki isn’t sure; she’s having a tough time paying attention enough when Ana breathes, “Damn, I love you so much,” against her lips.

The rest of their clothes are easy to discard. Yuki had half-forgotten her skirt was still on until Ana tugs at the waistband with both of her hands. Yuki lifts her hips and feels a chill against her thighs; her ankles slip free. Ana helps her unclasp her bra and Yuki does the same for her. When they are finished, without needing to be told, Yuki readjusts herself in the center of the bed.

“I’m going to turn around, okay?”

“Please do.”

Ana spins. Her knees dig into the mattress on either side of Yuki’s head, above the level of her ears. Her long, brown hair falls like a curtain down and off the slope of her back.

She looks over her shoulder. “Ready?”

Yuki nods. Her hands, without her being conscious of it, have decided to lay on the outside of Ana’s thighs. Her thumbs rub in slow circles, and she can feel Ana’s nerves jump—the tremble in her skin under such a light touch.

She fights a gasp when Ana’s hands press against the inside of her thighs.

“You let me know if I get too close to your penis and make you uncomfortable,” Ana rasps. Her fingernails leave light, electric sparks in their wake along her sensitive skin.

“Y-yes. Of course.” Yuki brings back a hand to gently skim her fingers over Ana’s hard length. It’s warm and firm; she rubs her thumb under the foreskin. Instinctively, Ana bucks into her hand. 

When finally Yuki leans up and wraps her lips around the head, Ana makes a soft, wounded sound right into her thigh. 

“Yuki…” she breathes, and for a moment, for a blissful minute, she doesn’t move. Her voice hitches when Yuki rises further and opens her throat wider to slip more of her cock inside. “Oh, Yuki…yeah…that’s so good…just like that…”

Yuki hums and tries not to smile. Her tongue rubs awkwardly along the side—up and then down. When she hollows her cheeks out to suck, Ana groans. Her hips jerk. She gives tiny, furtive, aborted movements downward like she’s trying to restrain herself, like she’s holding back; but Yuki slides her hands up the swell and curve of Ana’s thighs to her hips and pulls her down. It’s a small adjustment, but a better angle to get Ana’s cock down her throat and solve the problem of _needing deeper, needing more_ for them both.

Ana gasps. Her lips press messy kisses up Yuki’s thighs. Yuki shakes and that tremor travels down her legs.

“That’s it—that’s it—god.” Ana babbles, ever vocal. Her tongue leaves a wet trail up, up, up, as she mouths desperate words into Yuki’s sensitive skin. “You’re so good to me…” 

Yuki gasps around Ana’s cock the instant she finally feels wet lips on her testicles. 

She whines, all high and broken, as the heat and energy within her body darts down to the center of her gut. It tightens, squeezing, anticipation rising with every increase in pleasure.

Ana tries to thrust again into Yuki’s mouth, continually making hungry, gasping noises. Her movements turn uneven, lacking rhythm and consistency the more desperate her need grows. Yuki wraps her hands around her hips, her forearms pressed along her legs to frame her and hold her steady as she begins to suck hard.

“Yuki!” Ana’s voice cuts off with a cry. “Ah! Yes! That’s it! Just like that! _God!”_

It’s difficult to focus when she can feel Ana’s voice against her balls. She can feel them tighten, whines around Ana’s length, and begins to move faster. She flicks her tongue up along the veined skin. She can feel the subtle way it throbs between her lips, stiffening.

“Yuki! Yes! Yes! I’m—I’m gonna—”

The first burst of salt hits Yuki’s tongue before Ana has even finished speaking. Small globs, over and over, as Ana’s length clenches and spurts down her throat.

And then Yuki doesn’t move, because she can’t.

Because the reflex of Ana coming and sucking on her own balls, in turns, makes her come all over her stomach. She freezes and moans high and then low as Ana fills her mouth until she’s soft. Yuki spurts over her lower abdomen, feeling every pulse as it pounds through her gut. It feels different—rougher—on nights like these where she doesn’t want to be directly touched. 

For a moment, neither of them move. Ana breathes hard against her thighs. Little, hot puffs of air that tickle Yuki’s sensitive skin. 

Yuki lets Ana’s length slip from her lips and Yuki smiles as Ana finally turns back around. Mischievously, she makes sure Ana watches as she peeks a tongue out to lap around her mouth. Very visibly, very clearly, she swallows.

Ana makes a low sound. “Oh god. You know exactly what you’re doing to me, don’t you?”

Yuki giggles. She lifts a hand to her mouth.

Ana digs the heels of her hands into the mattress on either side of Yuki’s hips and hums, “Yeah, well…two can play at this game, Yuki.” 

Then she bends. Her tongue slips out.

Yuki gasps the instant she can feel that tongue slide across her skin on her lower abdomen. Her eyes flutter shut. Every lick laps up more of her cum, all the marks of it that had littered her gut—gone. Ana hums when she’s finished, leaning upward. In a direct mirror of what Yuki had done earlier, she runs her tongue across her lips. 

Ana climbs back up her body, grinning her wolfish smile.

Yuki exhales heavily. “That…that was…”

“Yeah,” Ana agrees without needing to hear what Yuki was going to say at all. “Now if you think that was hot, then you should have seen yourself just a few seconds ago: swallowing everything I had to give you like a pro.”

Yuki pleasantly flushes. A finger twirls a loose lock of her hair around it. “Well, I like to think I’m learning, at the very least. I know the first time I swallowed, you were…” Her flush deepens, burns bright and crimson like a rose. “W-well, you were so excited to, um…to show me that you liked that, that afterward, you…”

Ana lifts an eyebrow. “I…?” 

Suddenly, it’s very hard to look her girlfriend in the face. Yuki looks away. “Y-you—” 

“—what, fucked you so hard, you couldn’t walk?”

Yuki’s eyes widen. The heat coloring her cheeks explodes and spreads down her throat to her shoulders.

It always amazes her, a little bit, Ana’s quick turnarounds. Her ability to recover and be so eager to go again; at first, Yuki had found it hard to keep up with. Now, she’s flattered by it: she’s flattered that Ana finds so much desirable in her that she wants _more._

It’s that thought that always makes the heat rise under Yuki’s skin again, ready to go for a second round, too. 

Ana leans in torturously close—close enough to let her lips hover over Yuki’s—but not close enough for them to kiss. Yuki finds her breath growing shorter and shorter; it’s hard not to writhe when under Ana’s piercing stare. “Do you want me to?” Ana’s voice is as soft as silk. She drops a finger and lets it slide up Yuki’s sternum between her breasts. “Fuck you until you can’t walk, that is?”

Yuki nods. “Y-yes.” 

It comes out far more mousy than she wants it to. She hides her face behind a hand, embarrassed by her own weak voice, but she nods and nods and nods. “Yes! Yes, please…”

“Then go on. Be a good girl and turn over for me, won’t you?”

Yuki has never moved faster in her life. 

She spins and digs her spread knees into the mattress, arching her back. She might make a sound—something choked-off and eager—as she bends and presses the side of her face into the nearest pillow. Meanwhile, Ana hums from the side of the room.

Yuki hadn’t realized she moved, but she hears Ana now, rummaging in the bedside drawer. Anticipation licks up her gut like a flame. She resists the urge to turn her head and watch, waiting patiently instead for the tell-tale dip of the bed as Ana climbs up behind her and readjusts her feet, spreading them apart wider, to better kneel between them.

The lube cap gives a quiet _pop._

Yuki can hear her heart pounding in her ears.

One slicked finger isn’t much, but the insistent pressure of it inside—the gentle intrusion sliding up against her walls—makes Yuki weak. She sighs into it, pressing her shoulders into the bed. She lifts her ass higher.

“Damn. You always look so good like this, Yuki.” Ana’s voice is husky and low, curling into the silence as she works Yuki open. Slowly, with as much care as the first, she works in a second finger. Yuki’s shoulders clench for a brief moment before she breathes out hard. “You’re so eager for me. So compliant, and so easy. You know what that does to me?” 

_I have a very good feeling that I do, yes,_ Yuki would say if she had control of her voice at all. If she trusted it not to shake out of her when two fingers slowly become three.

“That’s right.” Ana hums like a sigh. Yuki doesn’t realize she’s bending over until she feels a gentle kiss on the wingspan of her shoulder blades and the tickle of Ana’s long hair over the small of her back. She shudders. The sound Ana makes over her could almost be described as a purr. “You’re taking my fingers so beautifully. Absolutely gorgeous.”

Then, at last, her fingers slide free.

Yuki pushes her forehead into the sides of her hands. She breathes hard against the sheets; her gut is curling with something hot and smokey. 

“Do you want me to use a—”

“—no. No condom.” Yuki’s voice is far raspier than she thought it would be when she finally speaks. She clears her throat and turns her head to peer over her shoulder. “No condom,” she repeats for a second time when her voice is stronger and steadier. After a moment’s pause, she adds: “If…if that’s okay? I just…I want to _feel_ you, Ana—feel you _inside_ me—” 

“—you don’t even need to justify it, Yuki.” If Yuki’s voice had been ragged, Ana’s is distraught, nearly whiny with need. “God. _God.”_

The lube cap pops again. There’s a moment of breathless silence until Ana makes another small sound. Then, Yuki can feel both of Ana’s hands fall on her hips, one still slick and chill with lube. The head of her cock bumps against her ass. One hand lifts away, and Yuki’s breath hitches when she can feel the width of Ana more accurately press against her entrance. 

“Ready?”

She nods.

The pressure at first feels nearly overwhelming. Ana pops inside and Yuki’s tongue dries up in her mouth because she always forgets how broadly Ana can spear her open. She is thick, by no means slight and small, but steadily pressing that girth inside inch by inch. Yuki breathes and breathes and breathes and tries to remember to keep doing so the deeper Ana goes.

“Oh _god…_ Ana…you’re so…you’re so— _”_

“—Yeah. That’s it. Take it. Take all of it, Yuki.” 

The instant she can feel Ana’s up against her ass, she groans. It sort of sounds like a sob. Her gut is hot, hot, hot; her dick strains against her stomach, weeping with precum onto the sheets. 

She’s inside her. 

Ana’s inside her. Filling her. 

_She’s so big, oh god—_

After a breathless moment, gasping, Ana breaks the silence. She brushes a hand up Yuki’s shaking spine, pressing kisses as high as she can bend her body over to reach. “You okay?”

Yuki nods. Her hair slips over her shoulder, brushed aside. She pushes herself up onto her forearms and can feel the slight change in angle, the pressure that shifts inside of her as Ana’s cock presses up as deep as it can go. “Y-yes. Ah. Yes. I’m okay. Please don’t worry, Ana. I need you.”

“You need me, huh?” Ana chuckles. Her hands settle warmly on Yuki’s hips; slowly, she begins to pull out. “God, but I love it when you say that.”

The first, harsh thrust bursts stars behind Yuki’s closed eyes.

She yelps and tosses her head back. Her hair falls everywhere; a stray strand sticks to the corner of her open mouth as Ana pulls her into her next hard thrust. She would say something, she would babble endlessly in ecstasy, but Ana’s thrusting again, bouncing her ass over and over again in time with the gyration of her body, and Yuki gets lost in the burning euphoria of Ana’s quick movements. 

Each time—each delicious time—Ana hits that spot deep inside of her that makes fireworks burst up her spine. Her mind whites out. “Ah! Yes…yes, Ana! M-more! Ah—ah—please!”

Ana leans up. 

It’s peculiar, a little bit: her weight directly pressing on the heels of her palms down on either side of Yuki’s hips—but it gives her so much more strength. Her arms lock, and her spine arches sharply. Yuki’s thighs shake as Ana’s hips piston forward and into her with new fervor and power, fucking her hard. 

Yuki gasps and screams. “Y-yes! Oh—”

“—you feel so good, Yuki.” Ana’s voice is tight and weak. Heady in the throes of her pursuit of pleasure. “You’re so tight. God, yeah. That’s it. You’re taking me so well…”

And for all of Ana’s endless teasing of: “You know just what you’re doing to me, huh?” she, in turn, must know exactly what she’s doing to Yuki, as well. Her words light a fire that sears upward along Yuki’s gut. Yuki gives a broken moan as she’s tossed back and forth and back and forth not unlike a ragdoll. It’s a quick, punishing pace that Ana sets, pounding into her. It’s driving Yuki _crazy._

Yuki pushes her hands into the mattress and bends her elbows. Every thrust punches another sharp, open-mouthed, _“Ah—ah—ah—!”_ out of her gut. She feels on fire. She feels so good. She feels— “A-Ana—” 

“—y-yeah, Yuki?”

“I’m—I think I’m gonna—”

“Fuck yeah. Go ahead. Come while I’m fucking you, Yuki—”

“—ah—ah—I’m gonna—I’m— _AH!”_

Her climax hits her hard, slamming into her gut. Her eyes squeeze tight as she jerks, humping back without rhythm or reason, only desperation as she pulses onto the sheets beneath. 

Ana makes a torn, gasp of a groan. She swears under her breath and it only takes a few harsh, banging thrusts, before she, too, comes and spills inside of Yuki.

Yuki drops her head and jolts as Ana’s spurts hit her walls and fill her. She relishes it. Groans with it. When Ana gingerly pulls out, Yuki can feel a trickle of her escape. It tickles, almost: that small, glimmering and wet trail.

The silence that follows is broken only by the two’s harsh breathing. 

Slowly, as the seconds pass, Yuki can feel her every inhale and exhale begin to even out. Ana’s hands find her arms and ease her back around, turning her over for a kiss. She holds it for one second, and then two.

“How was that?” Ana murmurs. Her eyes no longer hold the wild hunger from before; they are gentler, now. Kinder.

Yuki nods. Her hands idly fall over her own stomach. “That was…that was so _good,_ Ana. I feel like jelly.”

Ana smiles. She reaches up and plays with a loose, messy strand of Yuki’s hair splayed out over the sheets like dark wings. “I mean, that only means I did a decent job of fucking your brains out, but…you liked it, then?”

“Very much.”

“Think you’ll be able to walk tomorrow?”

Yuki laughs. She shakes her head and laughs even more. “No, but I think that’s the mercy of Thursdays and the joy of Fridays—I have nowhere to be tomorrow, so I don’t think it matters much at all.” 

Ana presses her smile into Yuki’s mouth and hums. “That’s the spirit.” 

* * *

Their clean up is softer and gentler. Not as loud and urgent as everything had been minutes ago. It is not as full of hunger and drive and desperation. It’s as quiet as their feet shuffling across the carpet of their bedroom to the adjoining bathroom is, and as meek as the way the water squeaks on and the shower starts. It’s as warm as the steam fogging up the glass over the sink.

Yuki thinks it’s this _afterward_ of sex that she loves most. The time they devote to caring for one another, reminding themselves: _I love you and that’s all of you, you know?_

She squeezes body wash onto Ana’s loofah and begins high on her shoulders, running down the long line of her arms and back up again. She is careful with Ana’s breasts but does not miss the way Ana involuntarily flutters her eyes at her ministrations. 

It’s intimate in a different way to rub the loofah across her girlfriend’s stomach. Different than the heat and hunger of their bed and sex; it’s still love—in every touch and every movement, there is so, so much _love—_ but it’s different, and it’s good, and it smells like strawberries and cream and is as soft as silk under her lips when she kisses the curve of Ana’s shoulder.

When Ana smiles, it feels like she has the sun caught between her ribs.

Yuki massages the shampoo into Ana’s long hair. Another kiss is placed to the back of Ana’s neck before she helps her lean into the spray to wash it all out. She places one more kiss on Ana’s temple once her hair is clear, as light as a _thank you._ Ana turns and steals her lips for her own. 

When Ana finally returns the favor to Yuki, her hands are extraordinarily more careful and gentle than they had been during sex. They don’t grasp and tug; instead, they ease her pain and wipe her stress away. Yuki sighs into her touch as the loofah drags across her skin. She would lean against the walls if it wasn’t cold and chilly—but Ana, right behind her, is warm, warm, warm like the water from the showerhead. It’s hard to want to be anywhere else in the world than with Ana right now.

It’s hard to want to be anywhere else in the world than with Ana on any given day.

Ana’s fingers work the shampoo into Yuki’s hair, and Yuki feels like she might melt. When at last they are finished, they towel off and change into their underwear. Post-coitus Ana is a cuddler, and Yuki knows this and secretly, deep down, adores this, because it always manages to communicate how valued she is even outside of sex, and that—that—well, Yuki would like to hold on to that reminder, thank you. It’s nice.

They hurry to the bedside and can’t yank the sheets off fast enough to replace them with new ones. Shaking them out should not take as much time as it does. They tuck the corners in under the mattress and toss overhead their blankets until all is done in a frenzied rush.

The instant the bed is made, Ana practically drags Yuki down to the sheets. Yuki falls into her with a yelp, and then together—with their limbs askew, tangled, and with their bra straps slipping down their shoulders—they giggle. They kiss. Then, they rearrange themselves to more comfortably curl into one another.

Ana pulls her chin over Yuki’s shoulder, noodling her arms around Yuki’s as they breathe. They talk about both nothing and everything at the same time: Ana’s part-time schedule this weekend, and if they’ll have time to get groceries together on Saturday. They talk about their classes and the frustrating things their classmates have said during group discussions that sent them up the wall.

“But,” Ana says and huffs with relief. “The most important thing is that that’s all behind me now. No more shitty Socratic seminars on _The Scarlet Letter_. Now, we can move on to bigger and better novels that are actually _good_ for a change, and ones that I’ll actually have an opinion on to talk about!”

“Yeah,” Yuki giggles. “Like _The Great Gatsby.”_

“Ugh, don’t tell me that—”

“—why? I actually liked that one.”

Ana turns her head enough to rub her chin into Yuki’s shoulder. She grins. “You liked the _Great Gatsby,_ huh? Somehow, that doesn’t surprise me at all.”

“Huh? What does that mean?”

Ana curls a finger into Yuki’s hair and watches the way the brown lock bends and shines as she twines it over and over again. She smiles to herself. “That you’re a romantic and a sap and I love you for it.”

“But doesn’t he…die at the end?”

“The whole Roaring 20’s dynamic is still romantic, okay? I don’t make the rules.”

Yuki giggles.

Somehow, it’s that giggle that does Ana in. Suddenly, she leans up and over and presses an _I love you_ to Yuki’s cheek. Yuki, startled, puts a hand on Ana’s waist, and then there are more kisses, more _I love you, I love you so much_ ’s, pressed into the creases at the corner of her eyes and across the curve of her brow. Yuki sighs and her eyes slide shut until Ana kisses her way down her nose and to her lips. 

Their last kiss of the night is soft and secret. 

In it, Yuki presses her own _I love you’s_ against Ana’s lips and hopes she can taste every bit of sentiment she can squeeze out of her heart and put into their kiss. She holds it—and Ana—for one second, then two.

(Maybe, she thinks, it’d be nice to hold her forever.)

**Author's Note:**

> thank you so much to the anon who entrusted me with their OC's to write this for them <3 <3 <3 it was a LOT of fun and I had such a great time getting to know both Ana and Yuki!! 
> 
> if you'd like to request your own fic, check out my [carrd](https://krisseycrystal.carrd.co/) for more info (as well as other places to find me)


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